Executive Secretary of the Exhibition
112 East 18th Street
New York City
Dedicated to the
of the Future.
IN the face of the tremendous developments in
art in America during the past twenty-five
years, the building and endowment of mu-
seums all over the country, the hundred-thousand-
dollar-gates to exhibitions during worlds fairs, the
numberless galleries devoted to contemporary art
in New York City alone and the sudden appearance
of hundreds of new artists all over the country, the
Armory Show of 1913 (International Exhibition
of Modern Art given under the auspices of the
Association of American Painters and Sculptors)
seems today but a puny thing. In spite of all this
manifestation of interest and money expended
during the intervening years, it still holds a unique
place in history. Hardly a week has elapsed since
that spring of 1913 but what it has been mentioned
at least once in the public press.
At various times during the past year I have
been urged to put down some notes as to why and
how the thing started and what it did for art in
the United States, now that we have arrived at the
twenty-fifth anniversary of the occasion. Owing to
the fact that I was the executive secretary of the
undertaking and today the only man alive who
knows about or took part in all the activities both
here and abroad from the earliest beginning of the
project to its close, it is perhaps fitting that I say
something about this, at that time most exciting
adventure, which sprang upon the American public
like a flash from the blue.
Two things produced the Armory Show: A
burning desire by everyone to be informed of the
slightly known activities abroad and the need of
breaking down the stifling and smug condition of
local art affairs as applied to the ambition of
American painters and sculptors. This was the one
point. The other was the lucky discovery of a
leader well equipped with the necessary knowl-
edge of art and a self-sacrificing and almost unbe-
lievable sporting attitude. This was the American
painter Arthur B. Davies.
As put forth in his manifesto in the catalogue,
our purpose was solely to show the American
people what was going on abroad, but this was only
a half-truth, the real truth was that the Armory
Show developed into a genuine, powerful and
judging from results, a most effective revolt, per-
haps even more effective than the incident of the
Salon des Refuses of Paris in 1864. The group of
four men who first set the wheels in motion had
no idea of the magnitude to which their early long-
ings would lead. Perhaps they felt just one thing
—that something had to be done to insure to them
a chance to breathe.
It is necessary to realize that at this time most
of the younger American artists, especially the
progressive ones, had no place to show their wares.
No dealer's gallery was open to them, the press in
general was apathetic, maybe one in a thousand of
our citizens had a slight idea of the meaning of the
word "art". Perhaps it would be fitting at this point
to give credit to two American women. Mrs. Ger-
trude V. Whitney and Mrs. Clara Potter Davidge.
Mrs. Davidge conducted a small gallery at 305
Madison Avenue of which Henry Fitch Taylor, a
painter, was the director. Mrs. Whitney, I believe,
supplied most of the wherewithal. A small group
of younger artists were given free exhibitions at
this gallery. Three of the exhibitors, Elmer Mac-
Rae, Jerome Myers and myself, together with Mr.
Taylor the director, would sit and talk of the help-
lessness of our situation. Finally on December 14,
1911, we agreed to take action. Additional artists
were invited. On December 16th the group had
grown to sixteen members. Meetings were con-
tinued and new members added until the list looked
sufficiently large and representative to answer the
At this time Davies was already greatly re-
spected and looked upon as one of the leading
figures in American art. I called alone on him, a
shy and retiring man, and induced him to come to
a meeting, promising him that should he not look
favorably on our prospectus, we would annoy him
no more. Luckily he immediately took practical
interest in the proceedings and at the resignation
of Alden Weir as president, was induced to take
over that office.
At this point it is important to remember that so
far this group had thought no further than to stage
somewhere, a large exhibition of American art,
with perhaps a few of the radical things from
abroad to create additional interest. No one at this
time had the slightest idea where the money would
come from, or even if any sort of an exhibition
place could be found. Discussing this latter point,
the old Madison Square Garden was discarded as
prohibitive in size and cost. All other places seemed
too small or otherwise unattractive. Some of the
members mentioned casually about the possible
availability of an armory, several of which per-
mitted tennis playing for a fee. With this hint
I visited several armories, talked to their respec-
tive colonels and finally found after a conversation
with Colonel Conley, then commanding officer of
the old 69th Regiment, N.G.N.Y. (The Irish Regi-
ment), now the 165th Regiment Infantry, that his
armory, Lexington Avenue at 25th Street, would
possibly lend itself to our purpose.
In the meantime my friend, John Quinn, who
until long after, thought the whole scheme a
crazy one and had up to then shown no interest in
the new art manifestations, agreed to take over all
legal matters. So at last, with borrowed money, the
president, vice-president and myself, signed the
lease with Colonel Conley, $1,500 down, balance of
$4,000 to be paid before opening of the show on
February 17, 1913, the exhibition to continue for
one month. Most of the members, knowing that the
thing was on its way, and no one aware as to how
in the world it was to be accomplished, retired to
their various studios and hoped for the best.
An undertaking of this importance usually calls
for underwriters. Some of the better known col-
lectors and art lovers were approached without any
marked success. The task seemed more and more
hopeless as the weeks passed by. At this time
began my friendship with Arthur B. Davies, which
close association remained over a period of sixteen
years until the end of his life. During the spring
of 1912 he and I had many conversations debating
some sort of program for the projected exhibition.
The general opinion expressed by knowing people
in New York, showed scant hope of securing any
important works from European sources. However
all this only helped to provoke in me the desire to
go and see for myself. So with a growing familiarity
of the subject, due to my talks with Davies (who
was thoroughly informed) the picture gradually
shaped itself. Later in the midst of a painting trip
in Nova Scotia I received from him by mail the
catalogue of the "Sonderbund" Exhibition then
current in Cologne, Germany, together with a brief
note stating, "I wish we could have a show like
In a flash I was decided. I wired him to secure
steamer reservations for me; there was just time to
catch the boat which would make it possible to
reach Cologne before close of the show. Davies saw
me off at the dock. His parting words were, "Go
ahead, you can do it!"
The Cologne Exhibition, housed in a temporary
building had been well conceived and executed, in
fact it became in a measure the model of what we
finally did in New York. It contained a grand dis-
play of Cezannes and Van Goghs, including also a
good representation of the leading living modern-
ists of France. The show had languished through
half the summer, much maligned by the citizens,
but toward the end burst forth as a great success,
with big attendance and many sales. I arrived in
the town on the last day of the exhibition. In the
midst of all the travail of the closing of the show's
business, I could get but scant attention from the
management. However through the courtesy of one
of its directors I was permitted to browse at will
during the time of its slow dismantling. Needless
to say, I crammed myself with all information pos-
sible. Van Gogh's work enthralled me as much as
any. I met the sculptor Lehmbruck and secured
some of his sculpture, also works by Munch, the
Norwegian, and many others through the courtesy
of the show's management. I received letters to col-
lectors in Holland, departed to The Hague, where I
first laid eyes upon the work of Odilon Redon, the
Frenchman up to then unknown in America, and
not very much considered in Paris. I felt so sure of
Redon's quality that I agreed on my own respon-
sibility to have an entire room in our exhibition
devoted to his work. This was fortunate, as Redon
became a hit in New York. He sold numerous ex-
amples, thereby elevating his market many points
in France. At this time he was already over seventy
years old. I also secured several of Van Gogh's
From Holland I took a flying trip to Munich and
Berlin, made arrangements for the works of many
of the advanced local painters and then was off to
Paris. There I looked up that old-timer, Alfred
Maurer, who introduced me to the formidable Mon-
sieur Vollard, who although willing to listen re-
mained somewhat noncommittal. My mission
abroad had already been noised about and I could
detect a slightly rising interest all around me. I
next looked up Walter Pach, then resident in
Paris, who later furnished inestimable service to
our undertaking. To his wide acquaintanceship
among French artists and dealers, the advantages
of his linguistic abilities and general knowledge of
art, should be credited a large measure of our suc-
cess. He later acted as the European agent for the
association and during the exhibition in America
took charge of the sales staff, wrote several of the
pamphlets, lectured and otherwise lent great and
enthusiastic support to it all. His serious interest
in art remains undiminished today, as can be
witnessed Uy his own writings as well as his trans-
lations of the works of others. His latest achieve-
ment, a translation of the Journal of Delacroix,
probably one of the most useful and seriously
important books of its kind should be in the hands
of every r»ainter.
Things got more and more exciting. We went
from collection to collection, from gallery to gal-
lery, with constantly growing success. Talk spread
in Paris. Jo Davidson introduced me to Arthur T.
Aldis, who asked for our show for Chicago. One
night in my hotel the magnitude and importance
of the whole thing came over me. I suddenly real-
ized that to attempt to handle it alone, without
Davies, would be unfair to the project. I cabled him
begging him to join me. He responded and in less
than a week he arrived. The first night in the hotel
we spent without sleep, going over the newly
opened vista of what we could do for the folks at
home. It was very exciting. Then came several
weeks of the most intensive canvassing. We prac-
tically lived in taxicabs. Pach introduced us to the
brothers Duchamp Villon. Here we saw for the first
time the famous "Nude Descending a Staircase"
which became the succes de scandale of our exhibi-
tion in all three cities, New York, Chicago and
Boston. Constantin Brancusi also was induced to
agree to an American debut. Pach was left in Paris
to make the final assemblage, and attend to trans-
portation and insurance, a very tough job, which he
executed as only he could.
Then with Davies to London to see Roger Fry's
second Grafton Gallery show. I could see in the
glint of Davies' eye that we had nothing to fear by
comparison. Here it might be well to say that
Davies' thorough understanding of all the new
manifestations was due to one thing only— his com-
plete knowledge of the art of the past. Dikran
Kelekian speaks of him as one of the great anti-
quarians of his time. Many of the lenders to the
Grafton Gallery exhibition transferred their items
to our show. We sailed, worn out from work, but
fearless and determined as to the outcome in
Returning to the United States late in November
1912, with Pach busy in Paris attending to his part
of the job, we set about with our preparations.
At home, in the meantime, interest had been
slightly stirred by various messages I had sent for
release to the press even before the arrival of
Davies in Paris. Probably the initial announcement
appeared on the editorial page of the New York
Sun and made the home folks take notice. At a
meeting of the association the general program, for
the first time, was laid before the members. No such
daring proposal had ever been considered by any
group of artists. During the decade preceding this
time great pioneering work had been done by
Robert Henri and his group, which to say the least,
had made the public realize that the artist has a
legitimate place in American society. The first
messages from abroad, submitted by the newly re-
turned Americans, Max Weber and John Marin,
and the persistent and most stimulating early
efforts of Alfred Stieglitz in his little gallery on
Fifth Avenue, all these things had made the big
American public restless and desirous of finding
out more about the socalled new movement.
It was now our mission to present these ideas in
a grand, bold and comprehensive way, produced
with a technique which would be understandable
to every single American who was at all inquisitive,
and banish that bug-a-boo to every sincere worker
in the arts—the "help the poor artist" idea. We were
prepared to help ourselves and demand our rights
as legitimate practitioners. The events of the last
twenty-five years seem to indicate that we were in
a measure successful.
The Association's membership of twenty-five
naturally suggests that there may have been diver-
gencies of opinion as to just how far we were to
go. Personal tastes and training had their effect on
the attitude of the various men, but let it be said
to their credit, that American sportsmanship won
in the end. The sincerity of Davies was self-evident.
Practically every man forgot his personal feelings
and backed the president to the hilt in the under-
The labors of organization began to mount; at
the time we had a tiny office in an old building.
Weeks later it was conceded that I might require
a telephone. I drafted the services of an old friend,
Frederick James Gregg. He had been a first class
editorial writer on the old New York Evening Sun.
Contributing also, in the department of publicity,
was Guy Pene du Bois. Articles were prepared for
the press and everything was done to somewhat
prepare the public for the impending excitement.
Work was still mounting. We moved to larger
quarters. I was given an assistant. Arrangements
were made with contractors to fit out the armory
with walls, coverings, booths, tables and seats for
the weary. We had nothing but an empty drill floor
to start with. Owing to the varied distribution of
daylight through the skylights of the armory, we
had considerable difficulty in planning the sections
or rooms. After lengthy discussion it was George
Bellows who hit upon a solution. Mrs. Whitney
donated a thousand dollars for greenery and other
decorations. We were flooded by American artists,
good and bad, seeking representation and had
finally to resort to a special committee, headed by
William Glackens, to consider such requests. Print-
ing had to be done. The catalogue, in spite of the
heartbreaking work of such an efficient man as
Allen Tucker, was impossible. Exhibits were ad-
mitted even after the opening of the show, all due
to the zeal of our president whose one desire was
to make a fine exhibition and spare no one. It was
a bedlam— but we liked it. The catalogue problem
was finally overcome with the aid of a large group
of art students wearing badges with the word
"information". These young men had to memorize
the location of all the works shown and act as
guides to the visitors.
Here you must remember that the entire affair
was being conducted on a shoestring, one might say,
hand-to-mouth. There was not the security of un-
derwriters such as is usually the case in all "well
conducted" exhibitions. The treasury was prac-
tically always depleted. Elmer MacRae, the treas-
urer, did well by a nerve-wracking and disagreeable
job. When money was needed it was produced from
the sleeve of Arthur B. Davies. It was Davies'
party. He financed the show— he and his friends,
with perhaps slight exception. No member at any
stage of the activities was asked to contribute a
penny of membership dues.
A special meeting was held January 22, 1913 with
all resident members present, when the following
resolution was passed unanimously:
'That the policy expressed by Mr. Davies in
the selection of the paintings and sculpture
be approved by the members. That improved
plan of arrangements as submitted on this
date, as well as Mr. Davies 1 policy regarding
the distribution of works be approved."
From now on there was plain sailing. Pach
arrived in New York. Then came a time of agony
owing to storms at sea. The ship bearing the paint-
ings and sculptures from abroad was two weeks
overdue. But she came in. An entire uptown build-
ing was leased to temporarily house the works.
Contractors got busy. The exhibition was installed.
Everybody helped. Morgan Taylor of Putnam's
gave his evenings gratis. He secured for us the
sales staff for catalogues, pamphlets and photo-
graphs, also the girls to sell the tickets of admis-
sion, which incidentally were twenty-five cents.
On busy days we had two box offices in operation.
The pine tree flag of the American Revolution was
adopted as our emblem; the tree was reproduced
on campaign buttons to signify the "New Spirit".
Thousands of these buttons were given away.
Posters were printed and distributed all over town.
The President of the United States, the Governor
of the State and the Mayor of New York, all sent
their regrets. So the show finally opened without
their aid on the night of February 17, 1913. All
society was there, all the art public, and success
Now came a surprise. The press was friendly and
willing. Sides were taken for or against, which was
good, but in spite of this the public did not arrive.
For two weeks there was a dribbling attendance.
Expenses went on, a big staff of guards, salesgirls,
etc., had to be supported. The deficit grew steadily,
when suddenly on the second Saturday the storm
broke. From then on the attendance mounted and
controversy raged. Old friends argued and sepa-
rated, never to speak again. Indignation meetings
were going on in all the clubs. Academic painters
came every day and left regularly, spitting fire and
brimstone— but they came— everybody came. Albert
Pinkham Ryder, on the arm of Davies, arrived to
look at some of his own pictures he had not seen in
years, or maybe he too could not resist the Armory
Show. Henry McBride was in his glory and val-
iantly held high the torch of free speech in the
plastic arts, as he is doing today. A daily visitor
was Miss Lillie Bliss who here first found her in-
troduction to modern art. Frank Crowninshield
reveled in discoveries. He was a true champion and
is so today. Enrico Caruso came, he did not sing,
but had his fun making caricatures. Mrs. Meredith
Hare, one of the show's ardent supporters was hav-
ing the time of her life. Mrs. Astor, now Lady
Ribblesdale, came every day after breakfast. Stu-
dents, teachers, brain specialists— the exquisite, the
vulgar, from all walks of life they came. "Over-
night" experts expounded on the theories of the
"abstract versus the concrete". Cezanne was ex-
plained nine different ways or more. The then
cryptic words, "significant form", were in the air.
Brancusi both baffled and delighted. Matisse
shocked, made enemies on one day, developed
ardent fans the next. People came in limousines,
some in wheel-chairs, to be refreshed by the excite-
ment. Even a blind man was discovered, who lim-
ited to the sculptures, nevertheless "saw" by the
touch of his fingers. Actors, musicians, butlers and
shopgirls, all joined in the pandemonium.
We gave away thousands of free admission
tickets to schools and societies. The place was
crowded; the exact attendance will never be
known. On March the fourth, the day of Wilson's
inauguration I had the pleasure of escorting the
former president, Theodore Roosevelt, through the
rooms of the exhibition. Perhaps the Ex-president
felt that the Armory Show would be the right sort
of counter-irritant to what was just then going
on in Washington. If he did, he never showed it,
for he was most gracious, though noncommittal.
Later in the "Outlook" he discussed the show more
One day I lunched with John Quinn at the old
Hoffman House. He had begun to enjoy the fight,
but he would not buy. I urged and urged, finally I
won him over. His purchase of between five and six
thousand dollars worth of pictures reached the ears
of Arthur Jerome Eddy, famous in Chicago I was
told, for having been the first Chicagoan to ride a
bicycle and later the first man there to own an
automobile. Eddy bought some of the most radical
works in our show. Others followed suit. Rivalry
between the collectors grew. Bryson Burroughs
made history— through his efforts the Metropolitan
bought a Cezanne, the first ever to be owned by an
Mr. Aldis came from Chicago wih a committee
to secure the show for The Art Institute. It was
arranged to have it there from March 24th to
April 16th. Here in New York everybody was
happy and every member worked with a will until
the end. On the show's last night at the Armory,
we paraded with regimental fife and drum, led
by the giant, Putnam Brinley, wearing a bear-
skin hat and twirling a drum major's baton.
Through each room of the exhibition we marched
and saluted our confreres past and present. The
work of dismantling began at once and lasted until
morning. I spent the night with the workmen. At
ten o'clock on St. Patrick's Day the regimental
band marched on to the empty floor and saluted our
closing with the tune of "Garry Owen".
The show was now boxed for Chicago. It in-
cluded most of the foreign works, but of the Amer-
icans, at request of the Chicago authorities, only
works by members of the association. Gregg had
already departed for Chicago to meet the press and
was frantically telegraphing me to come and help
handle the horde of newspaper boys who were
evidently out for bear. The morning of my arrival
I met a most formidable array of scribes. The
echoes of the New York press had done their work,
evidently Chicago was not to be fooled. The news-
papers were on the whole most skeptical, but it was
great copy and they loved it. One young reporter
called my attention to what seemed like a sixth toe
on a nude by Matisse— and immediately rushed off
to write his story. I found the officials of the Insti-
tute most easy to work with and must state that
The Art Institute of Chicago is, to my mind, with-
out a doubt one of the most efficiently conducted
establishments of the kind in the country. Aided
by a thoroughly trained staff we were able to hang
the entire show in one day!
Another gala opening. The papers hammered the
show, but it was a grand success and thousands paid
to get in. One outstanding champion was Julian S.
Mason, later editor of the New York Evening Post.
Harriet Monroe was also an ally. The feeling was
so strong, especially against Matisse and Brancusi,
that later upon my return to New York I received a
wire from our treasurer Elmer MacRae who was
then in Chicago, stating that he had difficulty in
preventing the art students from burning them in
effigy. The teachers at The Art Institute were
almost a solid unit against our exhibition and in-
sisted upon escorting their classes through the
various halls and in "explaining" and denouncing
every part of the show. I had to request that this
be stopped, as it had a very bad effect on non-
student visitors who had the right to be left alone
to judge for themselves. Pach lectured at Fullerton
Hall to a full house. Jo Davidson and Bob Chanler
arrived to add to the excitement. Everything was
just clean fun. The Chicago management, although
perhaps worried at times, came through in good
order and was actually delighted. Our relations
with the Institute authorities were always perfect.
I received letters later in which they stated their
complete satisfaction with the show, as well as with
their association with us.
In the meantime negotiations were going on with
the Copley Society in Boston— and to Boston we
went. Boston did not take to it. Maybe the sight of
a large plaster relief by Matisse hanging between
two drawings by Ingres was just a bit too much.
Local psychoanalysts were especially vehement in
their disapproval. Our relations with the manage-
ment were most cordial; they did everything pos-
sible to promote success. However results on the
whole could not be compared with those of New
York and Chicago. The International Exhibition of
Modern Art of 1913 was over.
It took an entire year to close up the affairs of the
exhibition, with many disagreeable chores of a
minor sort. There were no debts left to embarrass
any of us. If anybody was embarrassed, it could
only have been Arthur B. Davies and he certainly
did not show it. After squaring everything, the
bulk of the money left was turned over to him and
by him possibly to friends who had supplied it to
him in the beginning. All had worked hard, not one
member of the Association accepted a penny as
remuneration for his services. Nothing remained
now, but to see what effect our great adventure
would have on these United States.
To the collectors of America and abroad, too
numerous to mention here, who so willingly loaned
their works of art, and to the following group of
artists who constituted the Association and whose
sportsmanship and unity of purpose made the
thing possible, all credit is due:
Karl Anderson, George Bellows, D. Putnam
Brinley, J. Mowbray Clarke, vice-president; Leon
Dabo, Jo Davidson, Arthur B. Davies, president;
Guy Pene Du Bois, Sherry E. Fry, William J.
Glackens, Robert Henri, E. A. Kramer, Walt Kuhn,
secretary; Ernest Lawson, Jonas Lie, George B.
Luks, Elmer L. MacRae, treasurer; Jerome Myers,
Frank A. Nankivell, Bruce Porter, Maurice Pren-
dergast, John Sloan, Henry Fitch Taylor, Allen
Tucker, Mahonri Young.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER
In the course of years, since that wild time in
1913, my feelings have turned first hot, then cold,
as to what the whole thing has really meant to us
Americans. How did we benefit, if at all?
The late President Coolidge once said, ''Amer-
ica's business is business." Therein lies the answer.
We naive artists, we wanted to see what was going
on in the world of art, we wanted to open up the
mind of the public to the need of art. Did we do it?
We did more than that. The Armory Show affected
the entire culture of America. Business caught on
immediately, even if the artists did not at once do
so. The outer appearance of industry absorbed the
lesson like a sponge. Drabness, awkwardness began
to disappear from American life, and color and
grace stepped in. Industry certainly took notice.
The decorative elements of Matisse and the cubists
were immediately taken on as models for the crea-
tion of a brighter, more lively America. The decor-
ative side of Brancusi went into everything from
milliners' dummies to streamliner trains. The exhi-
bition affected every phase of American life— the
apparel of men and women, the stage, automobiles,
airplanes, furniture, interior decorations, beauty
parlors, advertising and printing in its various de-
partments, plumbing, hardware— everything from
the modernistic designs of gas pumps and added
color of beach umbrellas and bathing suits, down to
the merchandise of the dime store.
In spite of the number of admittedly first class
pieces of "fine art" in the Armory Show, the thing
that "took" was the element of decoration. Amer-
ican business, perhaps unconsciously, absorbed this
needed quality and reached with it, into every
home and industry and pastime.
At a dinner given to the press by the Associa-
tion's press committee, one of the conservative
critics said with good humor, "Men it was a bully
show, but don't do it again." We did not have to do
it again. It kept right on going and is going better
than ever today. Many great exhibitions since then
could not have appeared without it. The Museum
of Modern Art in New York would never have been
possible. For years Davies and the writer urged
Miss Lillie Bliss, probably one of the truly dis-
interested collectors of her time, and a staunch
supporter of the Armory Show, to establish just
that sort of a permanent place for contemporary
art, but she wasn't ready. After the death of Davies
I kept up the pleading. Finally she decided and
called me to steer the ship. I felt it was not my
place and turned it over to another, who now is
doing a good job. I was not made for that sort of
thing. Perhaps I was after all, as old Mr. Montross
used to call me, just a "war secretary".
Following is a List of the Exhibitors
(300 Exhibitors - 1,090 Works Exhibited)
Alger, John J.
Ashe, Edwin Marion
Barclay, Florence Howell
Barnard, George Gray
Bechtejeff, W. von
Beckett, Marion H.
Bickford, Nelson N.
Bourdelle, E. A.
Brewer, Bessie Marsh
Brinley, D. Putnam
Brown, Fannie Miller
Bruce, P. H.
Burroughs, Mrs. Bryson
Butler, Theodore Earl
Carles, Arthur B.
Carr, Mrs. Myra Mussleman
Cesare, O. F.
Chaffee, O. N.
Chanler, Robert W.
Chavannes Puvis De
Churchill, Alfred Vance
Cimiotti, Jr., Gustave
Coate, H. W.
Coleman, Glenn O.
Corot, J. B. C.
Cross, Henri Edmond
Cutler, Carl Gordon
Davies, Arthur B.
Davis, Charles H.
Du Bois, Guy Pene
Duffy, Richard H.
Dunoyer de Segonzac, A.
Eddy, H. B.
Engle, Amos W.
List of the Exhibitors (continued)
Fraser, James Earle
Fresnaye, Roger de la
Hale, Philip L.
Harley, Chas. R.
Hunt, Mrs. Thomas
Innes, J. D.
Jansen, F. M.
Johnson, Grace M.
Junghanns, Julius P.
Keller, Henry G.
King, Edith L.
Kirchner, T. L.
Kramer, Edward Adam
Lundberg, A. F.
MacRae, Elmer L.
Mase, C. C.
Miller, Kenneth Hayes
Milne, David B.
Murphy, Herman Dudley
List of the Exhibitors (continued)
Nankivell, Frank A.
Niles, Helen J.
Pepper, Charles H.
Perrine, Van Dearing
Phillips, H. S.
Preston, May Wilson
Renoir, Pierre Auguste
Rhoades, Catherine N.
Rimmer, Dr. William
Rogers, Mary C.
Rook, Edward T.
Roussel, K. X.
Rumsey, Charles C.
Russell, George W.
Ryder, Albert P.
Salvatore, Victor W.
Schamberg, Morton L.
Schumacher, Wm. E.
Shannon, Charles H.
Shaw, Sidney Dale
Stevens, Frances S.
Taylor, Henry Fitch
Taylor, William L.
Tobeen, Felix E.
Toulouse-Lautrec, Henri de
Twachtman, John H.
Van Gogh, Vincent
Vlaminck, Maurice de
Vonnoh, Bessie Potter
Walts, F. M.
Weber, F. William
Webster, E. Ambroise
Weinzheimer, Felix E.
Weir, J. Alden
Whistler, J. McN.
White, Chas. H.
Yeats, Jack B.